CINDE, The Kings Mate (boyxboy) ✓

Chapter Twenty One

I resisted the urge to fall back into my warm little coven that was Veldore's arms and sat up against the headboard, barely gathering enough energy to move let alone wink.

Veldore was watching me carefully, his eyes ever so often becoming unfocused. He was deep in thought, as was I, both in our own little worlds yet still one and the same.

He suddenly came back to earth and seemingly noticed for the first time I had moved out of his hold. He glared and pulled me back into his arms.

I sighed and couldn't help myself from snuggling closer to the warm chest of muscle.

I inhaled the soft scent of cinnamon as rubbed the tip of my cold nose against his chest. He seemed to like that, whenever he liked something I did the aura surrounding him seemed to become so much more inviting.

I smiled.

How had I turned from slave to, well, honorary king.

How had I been blessed with this muscular deity of my own.

And how was it possible for me to feel so euphoric and never fear the side effects my joy would entail.

When I had always believed happiness could and would only be repaid in depression.

I had always been one to believe in 'equivalent exchange', no man should feel so good unless that happiness is repaid in hurt and sadness.

It sounds so childish to me now.

We do not control our emotions first hand, however we surely control the way we choose to envision what we see. Maybe this can alter our perspectives, and ultimately change the road our emotions are headed down.

I am getting off point.

I was lying there in Veldore's arms, every energy spent and only minutes to spare before we would be asked to return to the celebration of my marking.

Part of me wanted to go, I wanted to know what the townsfolk thought of me. I wanted to confront my family, I wanted to see how they would respond to my change in behavior.

Would they notice?

Would they apologize?

Yet they had spent eighteen years of my life ridiculing me and putting me to use as a slave. If they hadn't seen fault in their wrong doings so many years ago, why should they see now?

As the past prophet of Luna had once said; The cure to a foolish man's blindness is not by time, but by epiphany.

I should care more, I thought to myself as I resisted the urge to close my eyes and sink further into Veldore's arms than possible. I should be jumping at the very chance to pay them a visit and ruin whatever weak nebbish image they had of me.

Yet I found myself wanting to spend every little second I could hold onto with Veldore, more that I did solving issues of the past.

It was the past now.

The past is but memory.

And when a person as hateful as Durus has been your father for so many years you begin to understand that forgiving the one who has done you wrong is easier than pealing fruit. The hard part is forgiving yourself for allowing them to hurt you.

Had I?

Yes.

Whatever had taken place during the marking had seemingly wiped my soul clean.